Em:

The rest of our time in Can Tho continued as before - teaching, drinking coffe, eating seafood, cycling around (2 on a bike), riding motorbikes and meeting people. Lawrence played some football and I was taken for the best massage I've ever had. On our last night Ben, Evan, Lawrence and I went for dinner, got on the snake wine again and went clubbing. It was great! It was quite big with a massive soundsystem and open late. We were the only Westerners in there, and I was made to feel very welcome and spent all night dancing with the girls there. Perhaps foolish, as we had to get up at 6am to get our bus to Rach Gia. In our tired and somewhat hungover (plus I was ill with a bad cold) state we forgot our sink plug, but worst of all, the Marmite. Then we missed our taxi to the bus station. The journey was awful as I felt sick the entire way (it was the cold) but we at least caught the ferry to Phu Quoc.

Loz:

Playing catch up as usual...this is from my note book a week ago in Phu Quoc...sorry it's written backwards.

After 3 months of being in each others' pockets we decided it was time to spend the odd day apart, doing something different. Something we could share together but at the end of the day, after it's happened, like in the real world when we're both at work. It's healthy.

We're on Phu Quoc, a Vietnamese island just off Cambodia, in the Gulf of Thailand - it's nice.

I chose to spend the day on the bike and Em is at the beach. I've stopped at a very peaceful beach resort in amongst all sorts of exotic trees, about 5 minutes of dirt tracks off the main road which itself is a just big dirt track. I'm sitting on a terrace overlooking a secluded beach and a small jetty with two abandoned deck chairs at the end. It's the picture of serenity, very nice, very hot, everything's a whisper. I've just ordered my iced coffee with a whisper, so as not to disturb the honeymooners sitting quietly reading.

Have just come from an even more secluded beach, it even had cattle grazing just off it, with their farmers taking a break in the shade. I buzzed in on my bike and headed straight for the water to re-clean my shoes. It was more of a deserted beach - no buildings for miles.

On the way there I got slightly lost, went off the beaten track and ended up with me and my bike knee deep in mud, fortunately still upright. Not sure how it happened, I was trying to dodge a big puddle, decided that the grass option looked better than the sand on the other side and I just drove literally into the ground - it was quite comical. But it was also a disgusting black mud and me in my best white linen trousers (safety clothing)! Each time I struggled I thought I would lose my shoes (safety clothing) in the pressure. I managed to drag me and the bike the two metres back to dry land but it was clear me and the bike both needed a good clean before I could carry on.

I found a spring, but as I was washing my shoes I found it to be guarded by wild dogs -with some muted growls they let me finish up and I headed back shame-faced into town.

I thought about heading back for a shower. Bearing in mind I'd only just had my bike fixed after the previous day's crash, I thought it best to get it cleaned sooner rather than later. Returning a sparkling clean bike might rouse the suspicions of the already quite suspicious owner of the bike.I'd previously seen people having their bikes sprayed on the roadside so I went looking for one of them. On the way I saw a lady spraying the dirt outside her house . Encouraged by my previous charitable experience with the garage mechanic, I decided to ask her to spray my feet - it would at least make it easier to ride. She did my feet, the bike, my shoes, sat me down and gave me a cold drink, called 'birdsnest' (very refreshing) and introduced me to her daughter who spoke a bit of English and turned out to work at a hotel next to ours (that I later found out cost 145 dollars for a cheap room, we're paying 8 dollars a room). She said I should stop by and meet her at work and she would show me around and take me back for dinner with her family and that we were 'friends now'.She also told me the correct route around the bogs - so I said my goodbyes and headed back out - they wouldn't take any money for the drink which is nice because it looked quite expensive - I later found out that it is a local custom to offer esteemed guests this drink, which is made from the spit of swallows when they are feeding their chicks, hence the name, birdsnest. mmm

I'm starting to regain my trust in the people here. Since we've been in Phu Quoc - which is a world away from Can Tho in terms of tourism - people have, as expected, tried to rip us off - mainly being charged for things we didn't have, or shouldn't have be charged for. But the best one was when I was sorting out the bike. Our new 'friend from hanoi' tried to convince me that the cheap bike wasn't available by making a call on his mobile - but I could hear the sound of the answer machine in his ear piece as he faked this whole conversation - then looked me straight in the eye to let me know that his hands were tied - "hey, come on" he said,"just take this one....easy for you, easy for me", I said "easy for you, expensive for me" and we laughed - it was quite funny.

We'd previously heard northerners labeled as untrustworthy, dismissing this we've tried to keep an open mind but when this guy above mentioned that he was not from Phu Quoc but from Hanoi my ears pricked.We gave him a chance but it just goes to show. Maybe if you expect someone to act a certain way then they will. Just like if talk to your parents on the phone and mention that you're riding a bike but it's ok, 'you're being really careful' - and they tell you to be even more careful and wear protective clothing. What does that even mean on a tropical island anyway? What happens next?

In one moment of lapsed concentration on a dirt road, not going particularly fast, while considering that I'm about to be late to meet Emily, I look at my watch and look up again to see my front wheel hitting a football sized mudrock and over I go.I managed to save the body work of the bike (what a hero) and got away with a few minor scrapes and bruises and, here comes the one about protective clothing - I stubbed my toe a treat! Should have worn shoes..I know that now.Just bent back the peddles on the left hand side so all in all I was pretty lucky.

I ended up taking the bike into the garage district in town the next day, after a night fretting about stories of foreigners being ripped off for repairs, I decided this was the best option, rather than taking it to one of the road side places. It all worked out - got the work done in less than thirty seconds by an eight year old boy for no charge.

It's time to get back on the road, the weather forecast has been threatening cyclonic storms and I don't want to be out here in the dark.

Had a great time driving up the coast, got to the northernmost point of the island, could see Cambodia, it looked scary for some reason, and headed back with just enough time before dark.

Had just got back on the bike after taking a photo of a particularly attractive looking watch tower when...cue front tyre to burst in three four five..drats. Here we go again...I remember taking note of a repair shop further up the road, it's a 60km road and there was only one, so I manage to ride it on the flat rubber a couple of hundred yards and just round the corner, there it is - it takes him 10 minutes to fix without a word and writes with a smile "10.000" in the dirt - that 75 cents. This is going well but I'm not sure it's healthy...

A nervous ride back waiting for something else to happen - it doesn't - and we are reunited.

As we leave the prime minister of Vietnam is arriving to lay the first stone in the international airport - with the aim of increasing the yearly foreign visitors to from 30,000 to a million - to misquote a newspaper I 'borrowed' from the very posh hotel the girl worked at - we feel lucky we got to see it now.